The Darkness in the Light
by Jed Rhodes
Summary: Harry Potter; a sadistic murderer. Ronald Weasley; a sophisticated mercenary. Hermione Granger; a academic failure, and more besides. These three are sent into our world by a power-hungry Dumbledore, to make it ready for conquest... rated M now.
1. The Dark Universe

Harry Potter smiled at the sight which greeted him. A Slytherin first year student had just run into what Harry had truthfully thought of as the finest trap he had ever built. The trap was quickly sprung, acid poured from a previously hidden cauldron on the ceiling, and the little child screamed in agony, so great as could not be believed… and then there was othing but a pile of melting robes and bones.

Harry laughed. His hair was slicked back, long, and jet black, and his eyes blazed green. On his forehead was a scar in the shape of a heart which he had recieved from a botched spell over a decade and a half ago. His robes were jet black, as were his shirts, trousers, vest and - though nobody could see them - underpants as well. the only non-black item of his outfit was the tie in Gryffindor blood-red.

"Pathetic," he said. "I swear, Ronald, these kids are getting thicker."

Ronald Weasley, backstabber, but closest thing to a friend that Harry possessed, and certainly one of the smartest people in the school, said nothing, but a cruel smile played out across his lips. He was well known as a for-hire man, who lent his skill out for Galleons and was rthlessly efficient when he did so. He didn't speak as often as he might, but when he did, he was cold, clipped, and to-the-point. His clothes reflected his nature as a spohisticate, velvet smoking jacket (Gryffindor red), thin black trousers, elegantly quiffed hair of dignified auburn, white shirt, silver waistcoat, black cravat.

"I'm bored," Hermione Granger, 'Gryffindors resident screw-hole' as Ron repeatedly referred to her (being far too clever to swear), said. Harry turned to her, and clinically evaluated her appearance for what must have been the fifty third time. Short skirt, open necked top, and the school robe was ripped in a dozen indecent places. The only reason he hadn't had his way with her was because it was well known almost everyone else had, even the girls - everyone apart from Ronald, but only because Ronald was... well, Harry shuddered at the very thought of it. In point of fact, it was strongly rumoured that Hermione had slept with members of the teaching staff, which would explain why she hadn't been kicked out yet – she was remarkably stupid. In fact, being Gryffindors resident screw-hole was about the only thing she was accomplished at.

Harry walked over and reset the trap for the next poor sod who would wander this corridor.

Life, he thought, with a wide grin, is brilliant.

--

If this description of the Golden Trio confuses you, perhaps I should explain a bit better.

In the Ministry of Magic, there is a place where every single time turner is regulated. As anyone and everyone knows (at least, anyone and everyone with three years training and a heck of a lot of temporal study behind them), alternate universes, retcons, parallel dimensions, mirror worlds and so forth are ten a penny. For every universe where Harry Potter is the noble, heroic being that you and I know and love, there is one where all that is completely reversed. This is such a universe;

Godric Gryffindor – a warrior barbarian, founder of Gryffindor House, who slaughtered thousands of his enemies with his trusted sword.

Helga Hufflepuff – cruel, sadistic master of the unforgivable curses, and founder of the house Hufflepuff, known for its sadistic students.

Rowena Ravenclaw – intelligent, but that intelligence was turned to foul uses one dare not speak of, and eventually was murdered in her bed by her daughter.

Salazar Slytherin – former friend of Gryffindor, he eventually left the school in disgust at what his colleagues were and had become, although legend has it he left a monster behind… those in his house tend to be more moral, kinder, and are generally considered weaker by the other houses, though in practice this is totally wrong.

This is the basis upon which this darker Hogwarts was founded.

One thing that surprised the watchers of the Department Of Mysteries was that Thomas Marvolo Riddle was still reviled, but because he was a philanthropist who had, instead of focusing on power, had instead dedicated his life purely to the aid of his sickened world.

"Mad," John Carmichael said to his superior – a man only known as T. T was the senior Unspeakable in the temporal division, and it was commonly said that T actually stood for Time. It did, but T never said that himself.

The Department of Mysteries had a time travel division, mainly for the purpose of watching for anomalies. When these universes had been discovered, they too were placed under watch.

"That world is sick," T said. "Absolutely sick. Look at that – the entire Weasley clan there puts the Lestrnanges of our world into shame!"

Charlie Weasley had been killed while trying to lead an army of Dragons to conquer Durmstrang School – only for that school to prove its own strength. Bill Weasley was on the run, for breaking into Gringotts – the only person to have ever successfully done so. The two elder Weasleys were comparable in many ways to the Malfoys, and they were also much richer, having been give much of the goblin gold that Bill had stolen. Their younger children were similarly horrid, Percival Weasley having been a tearaway monster, the Twins having been the cause of many a fatal prank, Ronald being highly intelligent and then selling his knowledge to the highest bidder (who at this point happened to be Harry Potter) and Ginerva Weasley was Captain of the school Fighter Broom squadrons (no Quidditch in that twisted universe, just Aerial Combat).

What scared T though was a very obvious thing.

_What if that inverse universe found out about this universe? _

He, T, had spent years trying to keep this universe, their universe, safe and free from all the dangerous madmen from all the universes, (since everyone agreed this universe had enough maniacs of its own) but he knew that there was another T, in that other universe. That T spent his time trying to break down walls between worlds, trying, in vain thankfully, to invade this world, with its nice, moral people.

What he didn't know was that he had already failed.

--

Harry Potter spat out his chewing gum as he came up the steps to Albus Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore was an ancient monster, rumoured to wield the most powerful wand in the world. He had at one time been the friend and ally of the Dark Wizard Grindelwald, but he had murdered hium and bemce the most powerful wizard in history. The only reason he wasn't currently ruling the worlds was because he hated desk jobs, and being the headmaster of a school like this gave him more influence than any man alive.

"Potter," he said. His hair and beard were long and matted, bone white. In place of a wand, he wielded a staff with a silver, transparent head, and his nose was broken, crooked. He wore long, thick robes, like Harry's, of jet black, and a snake lay on the desk behind him, hissing quietly to itself. His skin was pale and translucent, almost as if he was walkin dead.

"You're needed," Dumbledore said, getting right to the point. "You, Granger, Ronald Weasley and his sister."

"Oh?" Harry said. "The word 'no,' springs to mind, along with the phrase, f-"

"You do this one task and I'll give you all the money and power you could ask for," Dumbledore snapped. "Mr Weasley has already agreed and set off. The girls are waiting for your decision."

"All the money and power I want?" Harry said. He thought about it for a long moment. "Could you make me minister of magic? Ruler of the wizarding world?"

He was half joking, but Dumbledore's reply was perfectly sincere.

"Where you are going," Dumbledore smiled, "I have a feeling I could make you _God._"

--

The walls broke, the spell long in the devising sending Ronald Weasley precisely where he needed to go. The plan was simple. T knew that Harry Potter and his friends were - to coin a phrase - the most famous wizards and witches alive. The four were to replace their counterparts and from there, subvert the status quo and allow the forces of T's department access - and the ability to conquer the world.

Ronald landed in the same corridor he had just left. There was, however, something odd about it. Instead of darkness, there was light, making the corridor feel more open. The portraits were calm and smiling, not, as Ronald expected, screaming in agony.

"Fascinating," he said - his first love was knowledge, and the knowledge of a whole world would be most intriguing...

"Ron!" came a familiar voice from behind him. He spun, to see - Hermione Granger? Surely not - her clothes were decent, her appearance was more dignified, her tone more intelligent and - was she carrying a _book?!_ No, surely not.

"What are you wearing?" she asked him, looking him over thoughtfully. He smiled, condescendingly.

"Clothes, my dear," he smiled. "Any more silly questions?"

She seemed ruffled, and Ronald smiled slightly more.

"Well, Ron," she said, "I was wondering if you needed any help on your homework..."

"I don't think that will be necessary, my dear," Ronald smiled, "and kindly address me as 'Ronald' - 'Ron' sounds so very _common._"

Hermione raised an eyebrow in shock, and followed Ronald as he walked down the corridor. She raised her eyebrows still further when he actually smiled at a handsome Hufflepuff boy, who seemed a little flustered - and she was actually scared by the laugh that Ron gave in response.

"Are you alright, Ron... ald?" Hermione asked him, and he turned.

"Oh, are you still following me?" he said, mildly interested. "How dull. Is the library still on the second and third floor?"

This sudden change of subject shocked her.

"Er... yes, but..."

"Good," Ronald smiled. "If you would join me, my dear, I have some research to do."

--

Harry grinned at Ginerva, who remained impassive. She was almost as tall as him, and certainly more muscular, which scared him no end, ut he never let it show - she was still quite hot, and he fancied his chances.

"Ready?" he asked.

"I am," Hermione smiled from his other side. The fact that she hadn't _had_ him yet grated her, he knew, and she was always trying - but for Gods sake, Harry Potter had bloody _standards!_ He was quite principled in many waysa, albeit only for his own benefit, and having sexual intercourse with a girl known for having sexual intercourse was - well, socially damaging, not to mention degrading.

Then again, if there was no one else...

"I'm ready," Ginerva - God help the person who called her Ginny - said, tersely. "Now shut up, Potter."

Harry sighed, and looked straight ahead, at the man who had only identified himself as 'T'.

"Go for it," he said. T smiled, raised his wand, and mumbled words Harry could not hear...

And then he found himself in the Gryffindor common rom, except that this common room was lighter, brighter, and less filled with images of dead things than he remembered.

And another Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley and Ginerva Weasley were staring at him.

"Oh crap," he said, before going for his wand.


	2. Flirtation And More

Harry James Potter, unwilling hero, the 'Boy Who Lived', man with the lightening scar, was staring at himself.

Unlike when he had entered Snapes Pensieve and seen his Father at his own age last year – his father being almost the spitting image of him, with deliberate mistakes – this was like someone had taken a picture of his, rubbed out certain parts and replaced them and re-coloured others. This boy was wearing all black, apart from a blood-red tie, and his hair was slicked back – and on his forehead was a scar that was not a lightening bolt, but a heart with an arrow through it.

"Oh crap," this double muttered, going for his wand. Harry barely had time to notice the double of Ginny – more muscular than his Ginny, with close cropped hair and a grimmer look – and Hermione – who he didn't _want_ to look at for too long – before a blue light shot across the room.

"_Protego!_" he yelled, blocking it, and the other Harry ducked. The other Ginny ran straight at her counterpart and started throwing punches, while the Hermione-clone (clones? Yes, that must be what they were) screamed in a really un-Hermione-like way, and hid under a desk. Harry threw some stunners at the clone, but he ducked them, and threw some more blue spells, whatever they were.

"Tell me I'm not this pathetic!" he yelled over at Harry.

"What are you?!" Harry yelled back.

"You, but sexier," Clone-Harry grinned, throwing more blue spells at Harry, who ducked. Ron was searching for the Hermione-clone, who was hiding, the only noise she made being squeals of fear. Ginny was having a violent tussle with the clone of her, and the clone Harry was standing up.

"Let's settle this like men," he said, raising his wand. "_Gladius mico!_"

A shining silver sword popped out of the wand.

"Cool huh?" his double smiled. "The number of Life Eaters I took out like this…"

Harry backed away from his slowly advancing double, who raised the sword – only for Ron to stun him from behind.

"Thanks," Harry grinned. Then he turned to see clone-Ginny collapsed on the floor. Ginny was dusting her hands off, looking quite smug.

"How'd you beat her?" Ron asked.

"Luck," Ginny smiled.

--

Hermione was quite confused by Ron's change in behaviour, but even more confused by his choice of reading – every history book he could find. They were sitting by the window, and he was flicking through books, reading as fast as Hermione could on a _good_ day – how was he doing it?

"Doubtless," he kept muttering, "the others will be in trouble right this moment, knowing Harry and his dratted gung-ho nature."

"Ron…ald," Hermione said, still not used to calling him that, "are you alright…?"

Ronald didn't reply at first, but then he glanced up – to see Draco Malfoy and his cronies walking along the grounds.

"I am now," he smiled. "Who is that blonde boy down there?"

Hermione followed his gaze.

"That's _Draco_," she said, confused at his sudden change of tone, almost longing. "You know that…"

"_That's_ Draco Malfoy?!" he said, sounding surprised. "God, that isn't bad. Not as good as some, but still, a definite improvement…"

"Tell me you aren't calling Draco Malfoy sexy," Hermione groaned. "Ron…"

"Ronald," Ron snapped. "Ronald Bilius Arthur Lucian Jonathan William Arcturus Weasley the third, holder of several distinctions, master of all forms of tactical aerial and ground combat, sword master, champion fencer, wand-for-hire," he finished, standing up and bowing. "And, if what I have gleaned about _your_ 'Ron', is true, I am a far, far better man than he is."

Ronald smiled cruelly and left Hermione gaping and shocked.

_Your Ron._

What did that mean? Hermione's brain, so used to solving puzzles, thought as logically as it could, and suddenly came upon a thought.

_Your Ron._

Parallel worlds.

Impossible?

Hermione Granger smiled. Not likely.

--

Albus Dumbledore watched as the three stunned individuals awoke, slowly. The girl who resembled Ginerva Weasley woke up first, and stared at him. She said nothing, but the venom in that glare spoke volumes. She was wary of him, but not scared.

Then, the girl resembling Hermione Granger opened her eyes, took one look around, and fainted. More proof of his theory.

And finally, Harry Potter, a strange Harry Potter, awoke and looked straight at him.

"Hello, old guy," he said.

"Mr Potter," Dumbledore said gravely. "If that is your name."

"Yup," the boy said, grinning. "Not that different, are you, you've already guessed."

"Guessed, yes – but am I right?"

"If you're anything like my Dumbledore, you are," Harry smiled, and it was a sneering smile, filled with malice almost palpable. "Though your dress sense is a lot more crap; and that is saying _something…_"

"I do not believe your being here was an accident," Dumbledore said.

"Don't tell him anything, Potter," the alternate universe Ginerva Weasley said. "Not a goddamned thing."

"Oh come on, Ginny…" Harry said.

"_Ginerva!_" she snarled.

"Oh alright _Ginerva_," Harry said, sarcastically. "He _knows._ It's as plain as the nose on Ronald's face… speaking of which, where is the old devil?"

"Your Ronald Weasley came with you?" Dumbledore asked.

"Ahead of us," Harry said. "Dunno where he's ended up."

"I must say, you're being very fothcomng," Dumbledore said. A shadow passed through Harry's eyes.

"I don't want trouble," he said.

"I assure you, I will not harm you," Dumbledore replied.

"Your _assurances_ mean _jack_-_all_, pal," Harry said. "I remember what happened last time Dumbledore punished me…"

"And what was that?" Dumbledore asked. Harry didn't reply, and Dumbledore sighed, before entering his mind. What he saw there made him retract quickly, and step back in shock.

"Like what you saw?" Harry said dryly, the levity in his voice belying the pain in his eyes. "Plus side, it wasn't anything personal. He says he's gonna make me God."

And the evil, malevolent grin returned.

"Ain't that gonna be _sweet_?"

--

Draco Malfoy looked up, to see a half-familiar face staring at him, a coy smile on his lips.

"What do _you_ want, Weasel King?" Draco asked. He didn't immediately reply. "What's the matter, your family sell your tongue? God knows they need the money."

"Semi witty," Ron Weasley replied. "_Fascinating_."

"More wit than you, dung brains," Draco said, storming away. Where were Crabbe and Goyle when you needed them? Weasley was following him.

"Nice arse," he commented.

Draco spun on the spot.

"_What_ did you say?"

"I said, 'nice arse'," Weasley smiled. "You have a hearing problem, perhaps?"

"What does it matter to you whether I have a nice arse?" Malfoy asked. "Last I heard, that Brown girl was you squeeze box…"

"Lavender Brown?" Weasley said, raising an eyebrow in mock shock, while moving closer to the stationary Malfoy. "Good grief. What _low_ standards the alternate me has. I like to think _I_ have better ones."

"Oh yeah?" Malfoy said, not moving away.

"Oh, _yeah,"_ Weasley said, before kissing him full on the lips.

--

Hermione Granger walked up to the Headmasters office. She simply _had_ to tell him her theory…

When she walked into the office, there was no one there, except for three people in chairs, tied up apparently asleep. She stared in shock at what appeared to be alternate versions of Harry, Ginny – and herself? Impossible. No, wait. It wasn't. Hm. How odd.

She studied the face of her counterpart carefully…

--

Hermione Jane Granger, resident screw hole of Gryffindor tower, kept her eyes mostly closed, but she could see the girl – must have been herself. The hair was crap, the face lacked makeup and her clothes were nowhere near revealing enough, but, yes, that was her.

Contrary to popular opinion, she wasn't stupid. In fact, she was remarkably clever. She was also a sex addict, which was not good in general terms, but it was good enough for her, and thus most of her brains had been spent developing aphrodisiacs, and consequently, she had had to use thse on her teachers just to stay in Hogwarts. Trouble was, the only person in Gryffindor tower she hadn't bedded (apart from Ronald Weasley – or, 'the queer' as she called him) was Harry Potter, who had developed a natural vaccine to all forms of love potion shortly after having been attacked by Thomas Riddle – something about love never touching him again, in any of its forms, or something… she didn't know the details and no one shared.

She opened her eyes fully, to stare her alternate self in the eye.

"Hello," she said, throwing her full flirty-ness into the voice – it had gotten her out of tight spots before, and hopefully would now – even if she was technically flirting with _herself…_

"Hello," the other Hermione – quickly classified as 'Nerd-Hermione' - replied, standing back slightly. "You're… you're…"

"You," Hermione smiled seductively – her charms had never failed on anyone apart from Harry, and she was well versed in all forms of the seductive arts – what else does a resident sex addict do? "I know. You wanna have a chat?"

Nerd-Hermione was obviously fully aware of what her counterpart was attempting, but she didn't move any further away.

"Er… no, I should be…"

Hermione reached with her tied up fingers for a little bottle in her pocket. If she could reach that, all her problems would be solved.

"…I should be going…"

"You came in here for a reason," Nerd-Hermione said. "So why not stay for a little while… get to know yourself better?"

She found the little bottle.

"I…" Nerd-Hermione was hesitating – _she had her_!

Hermione popped the cork on the little bottle. Hermione lunged forward and spilled the liquid all over Nerd-Hermione's clothes, catching her a little in the face and hands as well. Almost instantly, the effect came about – any contact with skin and the aphrodisiac was absorbed and took effect in the bloodstream. Nerd-Hermione suddenly flushed, and looked Hermione dead in the eyes.

"Untie me," Hermione said, her voice as husky as she could make it. Nerd-Hermione did so double time, not taking her eyes off of Hermione once. "Now, untie my friends." Again, double time obedience. And people said she was stupid! Hermione almost wished that all of her Gryffindor tower could see this, right now.

She stood up, and flexed her wrists, before holding up a finger to appease the obviously anxious-to-get-started Nerd-Hermione. "Wait."

Nerd-Hermione nodded, and stood stock still, as Hermione woke up Harry and Ginerva.

"What the…?" Ginerva said, looking at Nerd-Hermione, whose eyes were still fixed on Hermione. "What did you do to her?"

Hermione held up the little bottle. Ginerva glared at it, and then a grin broke out on her face.

"Are you actually going to…?"

"_Might_ do," Hermione said. "It'd be an experience."

Harry said nothing, but walked straight for the exit, grabbing their wands from the desk and distributing them along the way.

"C'mon," he said. "Let's leave."

"Right behind ya," Hermione smiled, and Nerd-Hermione followed her. Hermione turned and sighed.

"Oh but for more time," she said, sadly. She held up a finger, and shook it. "Not now."

Nerd-Hermione grabbed her face and kissed her before she could say anything. She could hear Harry's sniggering, but this wasn't actually half bad. But she didn't have time for the full shebang, so she stunned the girl – not willing to kill her own self, and besides, she didn't know any decent killing spells.

The three alternate universe students left the office, leaving Nerd-Hermione Granger unconscious…

--

Harry, Ginny and Ron were discussing their alternate universe counterparts.

"He was nasty," Harry said. "Something's genuinely clinically wrong with him."

"Mine was mad," Ginny said. "Proper bulldog."

Ron said nothing. In truth, he was thinking about the counterpart of Hermione… not that he hadn't thought about Hermione in certain senses before – particularly at night – but that new Hermione was like Hermione times ten; the stuff full on fantasies were made of.

The three of them were walking down the corridor near the room of requirement, when suddenly, somehow, another Ron Weasley cam out of the door, buttoning up a shirt, flushed as hell, a black cravat in one hand, a velvet smoking jacket hanging off of him, the front button of his trousers undone, and ran straight into… himself… and Ron stared at his alternate self for a full minute. It was more than obvious what he had just been doing.

Then Draco Malfoy came out, pulling a robe on, looking equally flushed.

Ron looked at them both. Harry looked at Ron. Ron looked at Harry. The new Ron looked at everyone. Draco looked at the ceiling. Harry sniggered. Ginny made a face and looked as if she was going to be sick.

"This is rather awkward," he smiled.

Ron screamed.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, _no_, _no_!" he yelled. "You did not, you _bloody_ did not!!"

The new Ron grinned.

"Why, were _you_ going to?"

Ron screamed again.


	3. Trust Me

The alternate universe Ronald Weasley sat back, no bonds on his hands. He ad come to Dumbledores office completely of his own free will, dressed in a knee length drape coat of navy blue, white wing collar shirt open at the neck, silver waistcoat, and black trousers. Behind him sat a still mortified Ron Weasley, blushing red to the roots, Hermione Granger, to whom he kept sending furtive glances, which she ignored studiously, the pale and disturbed Ginny (who had kept murmuring 'bad mental image, bad mental image' ever since the moment that the alternate Ron and Malfoy had come out of the Room of Requirement) and Harry, who didn't know whether to laugh or cry at what he knew must have happened. Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, watching all., Hermione had not been able to tell him how the alternate versions of the the others had escaped, but she had a vague memory of a blue potion on her skin, and then… she had flushed at the memory, and Dumbledore said nothing more.

"You really should be more open minded," Ronald (as he insisted on being called) said to Ginny, who closed her eyes and shuddered. Ronald shrugged.

"I need to know," Dumbledore said, ignoring Ginny's semi retching, "some recent history of your world."

"Oh?" Ronald said. "Certainly – for a price."

Ron Weasley rammed his wand into his counterparts throat.

"How about not blasting your bloody head off!" he said. "How's that for a price?!"

Ronald smiled.

"Just what I was asking for – amnesty, should I desire to remain here."

Dumbledore nodded once.

"I need to know about Harry Potter and Voldemort," he said.

"Harry and _who_?" Ronald asked.

"He may also be known as Tom Riddle," Dumbledore said.

"Ah, you mean Thomas Marvolo Riddle," Ronald smiled. "Leader of the Life Eaters."

"The…?" Harry said, confused.

"Life Eaters," Ronald confirmed. "Love, peace and harmony, that's what they do. Trouble is, they've taken it upon themselves to rid the wizarding world of those who they believe bring turmoil to it – that's practically everyone who isn't a Life Eater, and trust me, there aren't many…"

"They kill them?" Hermione said, speaking for the first time in ages. "That's not very harmonious."

"They don't _kill_, they _convert_," Ronald said, distastefully. "They shoot a spell at you that fills you full of positive emotions; so much in fact that some say the soul is actually empowered by the act of casting it. The victim simply cannot hate, ever again. It lobotomises you, in a sense, removes all negative emotions. Makes you a smiling moron."

He sat back.

"I'm guessing your Riddle isn't like that."

"He murdered my parents when I was just a baby," Harry said. "He calls himself Voldemort. He tried to kill me too, that's how I got this…" He pointed to the scar, and Ronald studied it.

"When Riddle cast the spell at our Harry," he said after a moment, "it didn't work, instead it backfired; Riddle's soul got all the love, but no one's body can hold that much, so it disintegrated – but the soul was so strong that it survived. He recently rebuilt his body, made himself one of pure love."

Dumbledore nodded.

"A world of hatred, I see," he said. "Why are you here?"

"Simple plan really," Ronald said. "Come here, replace Harry Potter and co, wait for the invasion."

"Why us?" Harry asked.

"You're influential to the world," Ronald smiled.

"I'm not," Ron pointed out. "None of us are."

"You're influential to _him,_" Ronald pointed out. "So, indirectly, yes, you _are_ influential to the world."

Ron sat back in his own chair. Hermione and Ginny looked thoughtful.

"One more question," Dumbledore said, raising his deadened hand. "Do you know where your friends are?"

"No," Ronald said. "They're most likely hiding, knowing them. Planning. Harry never loses, he tries too hard; about the only thing he never manages to do is bed my sister…"

He stopped as Ron's face took on a look vaguely like thunder. Harry, meanwhile, felt the monster in his chest screeching – so, he wasn't the only Harry with… feelings for Ginny, albeit his, he thought, were a little more than wanting to bed her. He hoped.

Ronald smiled at his counterparts sister.

"Just a shame, really," he said to her, "that your Harry doesn't have those feelings…"

She ignored him, but shot a furtive glance at Harry, whose face was unreadable, and whose eyes were fixed on a spindly silver instrument.

--

Ronald sat back in the Gryffindor common room. Back home, it was filled with various images of death, torture and destruction, but here… it seemed remarkably sane. Sane. Civilised. Ah…

He sat back, his drape coat dispensed and replaced with a velvet jacket of midnight blue. He watched as Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger came down the steps, Hermione obviously not wishing to speak with Ron, who kept a look of plainest unhappiness on his face, crossed over to the portrait door, and vanished. Ronald considered the face he had seen, the body language, and what he had seen earlier. A moment later, a girl came running after him, looking vaguely like Lavender Brown, albeit without the shocking bright red dyed hair that Ronald remembered.

"You know," he said to Hermione, almost laughing as she started. He stopped talking while she gathered herself. "You were looking for him earlier."

"I wanted to make things up," Hermione said, crossly. "Now I can't think why I wanted to bother."

"If I had to hazard a guess – and it's only a guess, I don't know nearly as much about women as I should – I would say that you were jealous that he had a girlfriend."

Hermione laughed, unconvincingly.

"He can go out with whoever he chooses," she said.

"But you would rather that was you," he suggested. She glared daggers at him.

"What is this about?" she demanded.

"Oh, nothing," Ronald said. "It's just that, he loves you."

Hermione needed a full minute to register that statement, another thirty seconds to reply, it was that plainly said.

"He… he loves…?"

"If I know anything, Miss Granger," Ronald said, "I know my own face, and men. He is deeply in love with you. I have no idea whether he recognises it as such – indeed, he probably doesn't – but it's true nonetheless."

"But he's going out with _Lavender_…" Hermione said.

"Again, if I know men and myself as well as I _ought_ to," Ronald said, "then I know that he has absolutely no idea that the great big gaping hole where his heart should be and his misery about how you're treating him are connected in any way, shape or form. So, he's filled it with the first available option."

Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"A gaping hole where his heart should be?" she said.

"I read too many romantic novels," Ronald said, sighing. "So sue me."

"You really are a gay man, aren't you?" Hermione said.

Ronald rolled his eyes.

"No shit, Sherlock," he said. "I mean, come _on_! How obvious is it?"

"Pretty obvious," Hermione said, smirking. "I have to ask – are you one hundred percent…?"

"Yes," Ronald said. "And I'm not into self harm, either, even if technically it's an alternate self I'd be harming. You want Ronald Weasley, go for him. And I suggest you stop going about it in such a roundabout fashion."

He sat back.

"If I know me, he wants it quite straightforward whether someone likes him, or not."

Hermione sat back, and considered the alternate Ronald's words. He, however, didn't wait for them, but instead went for a walk.

--

A little way down a corridor, Ronald stopped.

"Alright, come on out," he said. Harry Potter – _his_ Harry Potter – stepped out, wand raised.

"You grassed us in," he said.

"I did?" Ronald said, bored. "Really, Harry, I'm a mercenary by trade – do you expect anything more?"

"Nope, but I do now," Harry said. He tossed some gold Ronald's way. "You take that, you go deal with our other selves."

Ronald looked at him.

"You coming?" he asked.

"Too risky," Harry said.

"No, its too risky sending one man. Four of us, against a whole house, is slightly safer. Besides which, we're nothing like these people, Harry, we'd fool no one! His bloody scar is completely different!"

Harry lowered his wand, and sighed.

"Blasted hell," he muttered. "What the hell are we meant to do now?"

"I have a plan," Ronald said. "It's damn risky, but it might just work."

"What plan is that?" Harry asked.

"We kill Dumbledore," Ronald said.

"You what?!" Harry yelped, jumping almost a foot. "Kill…?!"

"Not this Dumbledore, our Dumbledore," Ronald added.

"That's even bloody worse," Harry said. "Even bloody shitting worse! We'd be raped, cut up, sliced apart, our bodies burned… I mean God!" he screamed. "Do you want to die?!?!"

Ronald smiled.

"These people are all bloody do gooders worse than Riddle," he said, snidely. "Trust me, we get this Dumbledore a cause, he'll bloody jump on it like a werewolf on meat."

Harry turned his head, unsure if the wisdom of this plan, if indeed there was any wisdom in this plan.

"_Trust_ me," Ronald said. "We have no other choice."


	4. For The Greater Good

"I must say, Ronald," Dumbledore said, looking over the three prisoners thoughtfully. "I find your skill most impressive."

They were in his office, the three bound and gagged, Ronald having waited for Dumbledore to return to the office patiently.

"Be impressed all you want, there's a problem," Ronald replied. "My friends here have failed, as have I… and if we didn't report back to our Dumbledore within the hour…"

"Then, you would presumably be punished," Dumbledore said.

"Mmmph," Harry said from between them. Ronald took his gag out. "Thank you, that was bloody demeaning – look, our Dumbledore is a mad loony, he'll shred this school into a thousand pieces if he figures out we failed."

Dumbledore sat back I his chair, thinking through his options. Then he turned to Fawkes, his Pheonix.

"Get Severus," he said. The Pheonix vanished. Harry stared at where it had gone.

"Wow," he said. "Our Dumbledore has a snake."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.

"Tell me," he said, "what do you know of your Dumbledore's abilities."

"Every Unforgivable, down pat," Harry said at once.

"Most spells for damaging things…" Ronald added, taking the gags out of the girls mouths.

"He invented broom warfare," Ginerva Weasley said.

"Not to mention the Gladius spell," Hermione added. Dumbledore turned a quizzical eye to Ronald, who raised his wand.

"_Gladius Mico!_" he said, and a sword appeared from his wand hilt. "Creates a fencing sabre out of nowhere – well, not nowhere, strictly it…"

"Transfigures air, I imagine," Dumbledore said quietly, as Ronald retracted the blade. "He invented this?!"

"Rumour has it that that's how he killed Grindelwald," Ginerva said. Dumbledore's eyes flashed. He was getting more and more horrified at this counterpart of his.

"He killed Gellert?" he said, even more quietly. "Unimaginable."

"You don't need to imagine it, he did it," Ronald said. "And all his evil – and even to us, he's evil – will come crashing down on this school, unless…"

He stopped. Dumbledore looked up.

"Unless?"

"Unless we get him first," Ronald said, unwillingly. Hermione nodded vigorously. Ginerva gave a single curt nod, and Harry closed his eyes, and shook his head.

"Can't be done," he said. "Can't. He's got that wand…"

"What wand?" Dumbledore asked.

"The Elder Wand, the Deathstick," Ronald said. "Most commonly known as Doomwood."

Severus Snape entered the office at blinding speed at this point, Fawkes the Pheonix flapping behind him. He looked unruffled, but grim, and his eyes were even more brooding than usual.

"Yes, Headmaster?" he said, before catching the eye of the four students. "What can I…?"

"I believe, Severus, that I explained about our alternative universe friends," Dumbledore smiled.

"Yes," Snape said. "You did."

"Well, they have imparted some rather unfortunate news," Dumbledore sighed. "It seems as though my own counterpart could pose a threat to us, here. I believe that we need to go to his universe."

Snape looked at Ronald Weasley, who nodded back, then to Harry Potter, his enemy, the son of the man he hated more than any other, and the woman he had… he shook his head clear of such thoughts. This was an alternate self. He saw the youngest Weasley and Granger as well – all of them somehow different, Ginerva Weasley more sure, Granger less, Potter yet more arrogant, and Ronald Weasley standing there, almost an equal in unreadable-ness to himself. This Weasley smiled grimly at him.

"Are you certain it is wise to trust these… people, Headmaster?" he asked.

"Perhaps not, Severus," Dumbledore smiled. "Veritaserum?"

Ronald Weasley raised his eyebrows, and looked over at Harry Potter, who shook his head.

"No need for that," Weasley said. "You don't think we're telling the truth? Fine."

He turned Harry around until he was facing both men, then opened his shirt. It was white as snow, almost oo clean, and then Ronald waved his wand…

The entire chest area was burned so badly that parts of it were blackened ash, and over this was a thin layer of what looked vaguely like Clingfilm but what was actually a magical restorative, at work even as they watched, slowly nibbling away at it. Harry closed his eyes, not wishing to look at the deformity of what had once been a perfect body. Four words were etched in white, untouched skin.

"I'll be brutally honest," Ronald said. "We want you to go to our universe and kill Dumbledore, because, quite frankly, he's mad, and he'll kill us if he knows we failed."

Dumbledore said nothing, but was staring at the four words etched into the burn.

_'For the Greater Good.'_

He stood up, suddenly, and beckoned to Snape.

"We're going to your universe," he said to Ronald. "We're going to deal with that other Dumbledore."

"Headmaster?!" Snape said, confused. "Surely we can't trust them…"

"Of course we can't," Dumbledore said. "Which is why they're staying here."

"That's unwise," Ronald said. "You need a guide…"

"Very well," Dumbledore said. "Miss Granger will accompany us."

"She's thick as a plank," Ginerva sneered. "I'll come."

"I think that taking the younger Weasley would be the best option, sir," Snape said. "That way, we have a hostage we can rely on. Mr Potter and Mr Weasley here won't try anything, and Miss Granger – well, she won't be clever enough to do anything."

Hermione bristled, but Ronald placed a calming hand on her shoulder. Harry was mournfully covering up his scars with some muttered spells, and then he buttoned up his shirt. Snape said nothing, but silently thanked God that the Potter of his universe had never been so dreadfully hurt. Lily's spirit would have haunted him every night for letting it happen.

"Very well, Miss Weasley," Dumbledore said. "Off we go."

"None of us know the spell," Harry pointed out, pale and obviously shaken.

"Not to worry," Dumbledore smiled. "I do."

He took Severus's arm and Ginerva's hand, and then, muttered incomprehensible words in Latin…

And then they were gone.


	5. War Across The World

It was just like the Great Hall of Hogwarts, but darker and gloomier, empty of all people.

"Not my world," Ginerva said immediately. "Too dark, and there'd be people... doing things."

Snape raised an eyebrow and curled his lip, before taking out his wand.

"I suggest, headmaster," he said, "that we leave this place. It might not be safe..."

Clank.

The three wizards spun around, looking for the source of the noise. there was no one there, no one _visible _at any rate, but Ginerva looked nervous. Dumbledore sighed, and raised his wand. A shining light glared out of his raised wand, and there, visible for all to see, were three men with long, wood and metal contraptions in thier hands, aiming them carefully, dressed in combat fatigues.

"Don't move," the lead man said, and it wasn't a man - just a tall, strong figured woman. she stepped forward, head and hair concealed by a helmet and goggles, face dirty, and she looked the three newcomers over. When she finished studying Ginerva, she stopped, and removed her helmet, revealing cropped ginger hair and a freckled face...

Ginny.

"Who the hell are you people?!" she demanded.

--

Ronald sat back, and turned to Hermione, who sighed.

"Why are we still here?" she asked. "Why can't we just leave?!"

She was studiously avoiding looking at Harry, who was sat staring at the ceiling, blank and sad. He hated, above all the other things he hatred, being reminded of his deformity. It made him remember that he was mortal, and remembering that he was mortal was something that he had happily avoided for years. His chest didn't hurt, his scars were healing, but even when they vanished and the words were gone, the scars would never truly vanish.

They would always be there.

"We're not capable of doing anything," Ronald said. "You know full well, we're too different from the real deal in this place."

"We're better than them," Harry said, speaking for the first time in hours. "Better than them."

"No," Ronald said. "Just different."

Hermione sighed.

"Look," she said, "I signed on for power, wealth, maybe some screwing, and none of that's happening. I wanna go home – I don't want to stay here for ages and ages while Ginerva goes swanning around with Dumbledore Lite..."

Ronald considered her words, and smiled grimly.

"I may have a plan," he said.

"Oh shut up," Harry snapped. "Your plans haven't done us too good so far."

"This one will," Ronald promised. "Trust me..."

--

The new Ginny walked around Ginerva, then Dumbledore and Snape.

"You can't be Dumbledore, you can't be Snape," she said to them. "Impossible. He's dead. And Snape. And you... boy, someone fucked up your polyjuice potion, 'cos you're more butch than Crabbe was..."

Ginerva narrowed her eyes at the new Ginny. Albus Dumbledore smiled politely, and placed his wand back in his robes.

"Perhaps I should explain..." he began.

"Save it for the General," Ginny said. "He's pretty good at interrogation; he'll get the truth. Take them to him," she ordered her men. The burly troops raised their rifles and Snape and Dumbledore raised their hands, but Ginerva made as break for it – and they gunned her down, blood spattering across the dirty floor. Dumbledore stood, pale and shocked, and his eyes were wider than snape had ever seen them. They moved on in silence.

--

A short while later, they came to the old Gryffindor Tower. The castle was in bad shape, semi-ruined, troopers running this way and that way, men injured, some even dead. Nowhere could Dumbledore see any remnant of the school he had so loved.

"Terrifying," Snape muttered to him. "This place is a school, meant for peace, and they'#ve turned it into a war zone..."

And then they saw the General. Short cropped ginger hair, stubble of dark auburn, bloodshot eyes, scar along his right cheek, and his expression was one of shock. He wore combat fatigues with no visible rank markings, over which was a blood stained black robe. A sword was hanging from his belt, recognisable as the sword of Gryffindor.

"Bloody hell," Ronald Weasley said.

--

Ronald, Hermione and Harry snuck to the passageway entrance.

"You're sure of this?" Harry asked.

"As sure as I am of anything," Ronald replied. "We go, we find this Volde-person, and we make him an offer he can't refuse..."

"Thanks for telling us," came a voice from behind them – and the trio spun, to see that they were facing themselves. Ronald swore and his counterpart sent a stunner at him, which was quickly deflected. The two Harry's faced one another, and neither moved for a very long moment, while the two Hermione's dispensed with wands and went straight to slapping each other.

Ronald ducked a misjudged stunner, and raised his wand.

"_Gladius Mico!_" he yelled.

"G_ladius Mico!_" Ron yelled back, and he ran at Ronald as the two shining blades popped into existence...

--

"You're both dead," this new Ron said to Dumbledore and Snape. "You both died in the first battle... you can't be here!"

"Well, I guess we can," Snape sneered. "_You're _a General...?"

"Shut it," Weasley snarled. "I don't need you telling me what I am and am not. Blasted..."

He looked haggard, and old, despite the fact that he couldn't have been more than twenty. He looked to the two of them and sighed.

"You're not from this time," he stated more than asked.

"A parallel universe," Dumbledore replied gravely. Ron nodded thoughtfully.

"The portrait said that stuff like that existed," he said. "But all the time turners and other experiments were destroyed when the ministry was destroyed."

"The ministry...?" Dumbledore said, aghast, and Ron smiled.

"Yes, I did that," he said, and the pride nhis voice told them that something truly terrible had happened. "Tell me - when are you from?"

"A little way into your sixth year," Snape said, sullenly, still not believing this.

"I see," Ron said, and he indicated that they should sit down. "Well then - firstly, you should know that here, in this universe..." he turned to Dumbledore, "you were killed. By him."

He pointed at Snape, who raised an eyebrow and looked at Dumbledore, who only smiled, and raised his hand - his blackened hand - to wave merrily at him.

"I trust that will not happen to me, Severus," he said. Snape said nothing, but actually smiled, which was unusual for him. Dumbledore turned back to Ron, who nodded and continued.

"Anyway, he was killed a minute after you," he said, "and from there things just got worse. Harry, Hermione," and here he stopped, and gazed blankly into space for a moment, before shaking his head and continuing, "and I went... well, we went on a mision to defeat You Know Who. But... I left them. I left them, and I couldn't find them again, I don't know what happened exactly to Harry, but what I know is that Hermione was left on her own, and..."

He paused again. He was obviously finding this greatly difficult.

"She turned," he finally said. "Anyway, we took Hogwarts back, eventually - I figured that we needed to get help, so we broke the statue of secrecy - and got Muggles involved. hence the guns," he indicated his room. "Lots of troopers now. I know I finished Hary and Hermione's mission, save for one last thing, but... Hermione died. Harry and Hermione were gone."

He stopped talking.

"I left them," he said, "and I regretted it every second that it happened, but I couldn't get back to them. So I carry on the fight, now, in their name."

He smiled, grimly.

"War has engulfed our entire world," Ron said. "Our world has been shattered - countless millions have died in the combat against You Know Who, and I know full well more will. He's murdered thousands. His followers have killed for him - and died for him, but now," he said, his smile widening, "the final battle is being prepared. Voldemort is sending a massive army here, to fight his battles for him, wipe out the resistance once and for all, and in the distraction, I've designated a small team - myself included - to deal with him. Dumbledore," he said, turning to Albus, "will you help them?"

Dumbledore raised his wand arm.

"I am no longer as fast as I was," he said.

"You're still powerful," Ron countered.

"This is not our world, or our fight," Snape reminded the Headmaster. But Dumbledore steepled his fingers thoughtfully.

"We must still help if we can," he said at last. "Sign us up, Mr Weasley."


	6. Shattered

The clang of metal on metal filled the corridor as the two Ron Weasleys duelled. Ronald – distinguished by his shorter, elegantly quaffed hair, and velvet frock coat over a dapper waistcoat and white shirt, and Ron, long haired and school robed, were exchanging swings, cuts and parries. For every move that Ron made, Ronald replied in kind, more skilled, more stylish, more deadly, with a devilish smile on his lips.

The two Hermione Grangers, meanwhile, were punching and kicking, but the Hermione from the parallel world was more than used to this sort of fighting, and had the upper hand in moments.

The two Harry's were the most equally matched, exchanging spells. The main difference was that the Harry with the lightening scar had no wish to kill his counterpart. The Harry with the heart and arrow wanted more than anything to prove himself worth he pains he had gone to.

It was a fight to the death, and there would be no mercy.

--

Albus Dumbledore leaned over the body of the late Ginerva Weasley. She was dead, no question of it, killed by the madness that had consumed this world. Dumbledore knew that this was partly his own fault. He should have left something to the three people who had held the destiny of the world on their shoulders. Instead, two of them were dead, including Harry, and Miss Granger. He had considered what his other self had done wrong, but in the end, the best option had been to go to the portrait.

It was him, all right. Beard the same, hair the same – the only noticeable difference that Dumbledore could see was that the painting was still.

"Damn," he said. "I needed answers."

The magic of the school was dead, he realised. This was not a place of learning, now.

This was a place of death.

So here he was, standing on the battlements of Hogwarts, about to watch that which he had always dreaded come to pass.

War, here.

--

Ron Weasley, General, looked to his Lieutenants. His brother, Percy. Remus Lupin, white faced, clean shaven, widowed. His sister, Ginny, battle hardened. Kingsley Shacklebolt. The bloodied face of Minerva McGonagall, the last surviving teacher.

"This," he said, "is it."

Everyone paused, expecting him to say more.

"I'm a man of few words, and almost none to the point, so I'll just say this," Ron added. "Good luck, everyone."

They all nodded, and marched to their allotted stations.

--

The two Harry's threw more curses at each other as the fight intensified. The two Hermiones were apart now, each one throwing random spells in a random order, trying to knock their foe of their feet, each one obviously quite alarmed by the prospect of actually trying to kill each other.

The two Rons were deadlocked - Ronald held his blade at Rons throat, who in turn had his wand aimed at Ronalds heart.

"Are you going to kill me?" Ronald asked, amused.

"No," Ron said. "You gonna kill me?"

"No," Ronald smiled. They broke the deadlock and spun away from each other, before smiling and raising their wands, Ronalds blade dissipating...

--

The battle, when it began, was brutal. Broomstick riding Death Eaters flew down shooting destructive spells, only to be met by a hail of flak that shot through their ranks like a knife through butter. Ginny Weasley led her squad alongside dozens of others, charging forwared and shooting up close, drawing out combat knives and wands and sending spells and blood spurting through the sky in equal measure. Artillery fire decimated the ranks of Death Eaters, and killed dozens of Giants, directed by the calming presence of Shacklebolt, at least until that section of wall was smashed aside, killing all who fought there.

The hand to hand fighting was driven closer to the school gates. Remus Lupin, screaming the name of his lost beloved, swung his sword and killing Death Eater after Death Eater, before taking a killing curse and falling to the floor, blank eyes, open in shock, mouth wide.

Percy Weasley held the gate, firing his M16 and screaming vengeance for his family, torn apart by the war, Bill, Charlie, his parents, Fred, George...

Ginny ran for the door, and offered Percy a grim nod, and he returned it, with a ghost of a smile. Then the enemy came. The gate was filled with men, women and even chldren, fighting and dying, screaming, blood splattered on the stone ground...

Then the noise, a slow groaning, filled the air - bagpipes. Leading a reinforcement regiment, Minerva McGonagall yelled, her wand discarded in favour of a cleaver, her pride in her nation and heritage allowing the warrior in her to breath free. with a cry of 'for freedom!' she charged, and led the reinforcements to clear the gateway.

Then, as the night darkened further, and then, from the shadows, He came.

The Dark Lord Voldemort, Master of all, Power incarnate, blood red eyes and black, billowing robes, silver sword in hand, with an emerald set in the hilt, Goblin made under torture, and the equal of the sword of Gryffindor, his wand ready, blade swinging, the killer of Potter and Dumbledore and countless others.

But rather than demoralise the defenders, as his presence should, it made them all the more determined - the bastard died tonight.

And then, the ace.

Ron Weasley, warrior general, the man who earned Gryffindors sword at the battle of Godrics Hollow, the man who in some eyes had become almost as much of a legend as Harry Potter, who died (so the legends said) fighting the Dark Lord, carged, red robes flying, machine piostol on one hand, wand in the other, sword at his belt, and behind him, to the amazement of all, Albus Dumbledore marched serenely, and Severus Snape shot stunners and worse int the crowd of Death Eaters.

But Voldemort was God.. he had killed countless men. So what if Snape had survived the first battle of Hogwarts, and turned against him, and so what if some fool pretended to be Dumbledore? He was the master of everything, now.

Weasley charged first, sword flashing, and met Lord Voldemort in single combat. Blade to blade, the younger man had trained so hard that he was the equal of his foe. Magic skill, though, was firmly on the side of Voldemort, who unleashed a bolt of pure energy that shattered Ronalds body. And every person in the room watched him fall.

Except Dumbledore. Dumbledore merely watched Voldemort, and his eyes were cold fire, and his face was stone.

"Tom," he said. Voldemort looked at him.

"You aren't Dumbledore," he said, quickly. "Dumbledore is dead."

"True - but then, I am not from your world," Dumbledore replied. "Your Dumbledore might well be dead - I'm not."

"Well, you soon will be," Voldemort grinned, and lashed his wand out, sending a firey curse flying towards Dumbledore, but the old man raised his, and the curse didn't touch him.

"Is that it?" he asked. Voldemort snarled, and sent curse after curse at Dumbledore, who blocked each one with the same slightly bored tone, and slight smile. And then, he retaliated, and a silver wave spread from his wand, hitting out across the room, and striking Voldemort, whose own shield couldn't be raised in time...

Lord Voldemort shattered like glass, falling around the entire room like glass splinters, and then they were gone.

Dumbledore didn't hear the cheering, and he didn't hear anything else, until he felt Snape's hand close on his good arm.

"We should leave," his friend said. Dumbledore mouthed the words, and the two men vanished, returning to the world from wence they came, as crying people celebrated their victory against the Dark Lord once and for all...


	7. Invasion

**Sorry it's been so long. Inspiration isn't an exact science. Or even a science, come to think of it. I oughta sack my muse.**

**--**

Hermione hit her head on the wall, as her other self came right at her.

"You nerdy loser," the other one sneered. "You think you can beat me? I've fought every fucking loser cow who thought they were better than me, and I left 'em needing more fucking time in hospital than they would if I'd hit them with every spell in the book."

"Your parents must be so proud," Hermione spat, running at her. "And there are more words in the English language than Fuck!"

"I know - but fuck is the one that matters," Alt Hermione laughed. "Fuck the right teacher and you get the grades, fuck up the right heads and you get the laughs, and if you wanna insult someone? Motherfucker!"

She grabbed Hermione by the throat, and brought her close.

"Fuck says it all," she finished.

"Well then," Hermione gasped, grimacing, "fuck you!"

She hit her alternate self with a curse that sent her sprawling. Meanwhile, the two Harry's were grappling, trying to get the advantage, and the Alt Harry was winning.

"You are going to die," he snarled at the original Harry. "So… painfully…"

And then, he tripped, and Harry grabbed his shirt, which ripped open, as he fell to the ground, and then he stepped back, appalled. The two Hermione's caught sight of it, and the original Hermione screamed. The two Ron's were, by now, far away, but a distant yell of 'Hermione meant that obviously, one of them had caught the scream.

"Jesus," Harry said, eyes wide. The mess that greeted his eyes was enough to make him grab his own chest in shock. The other Harry covered it up with a grim expression of anger.

"Happy?" he said. Then Ron and Ronald came into view, Ron breathless, Ronald seemingly cheerful, both looking for Hermione.

"Hello, all," Ronald smiled. "Oh dear…" he added, seeing the still just visible scar on Harry's chest. "Bullshit."

"Christ," Ron said, as Harry stood up. _His _Harry shared a glance that told him that he was shaken, and to be fair, Ron understood. If Ronald had had no left eye, maybe, that would have been bad. Alt Harry had… a bloody hole where his chest ought to have been.

"How can you live with that?" Hermione – the resident Hermione – asked him.

"I live with it," Alt Harry said. "Ronald, tell me you have some plan as to what to do."

Ronald blinked, and smiled.

"Obviously," he said after a moment, and then he crossed his arms. Harry - both of them - stared at him.

"Well?" Alt Harry said, eyebrows raised.

"I do remember," Ronald said, "that the plan was - come here, replace our counterparts, and wait for the invasion?"

"Well?" the Alt Hermione said, tilting her head strangely.

"Well," Ronald said, that damnable smile covering his face now, "did they tell you when the invasion was coming?"

Before the resident Golden Trio could say anything, there was an... effect. Like a video tape film warping, flickering and static-ing into existence came several figures, dark and robed... the resident Harry, Hermione and Ron raised their wands, and watched as the newcomers came.

Fred and George Weasley; both in long leather coats, one of red, one of black; the red coated twin had white facepaint and red lips, and his hair was shaved apart from a long strip down the middle that was almost two inches long, pointed straight up. The other twin had red facepaint, and his hair was brutally short all over.

Next was Tonks - but unlike the Tonks the resident Trio knew, she was tall, and her hair was black, her lips were black, and her face was bone white. She wore clothing that could have been described generously as immodest.

Remus Lupin was next to him, in a sharp black suit, brown goatee and brown hair, neatly cut. He nodded once at Alt Harry and smiled at Ronald.

"You look dreadful," he said.

Ronald looked down at his black drapecoat, scuffed and dirty, hie bloodstaind shirt and his general scruffiness, and wrinkled his nose.

"God," he said. "Don't look at me, Remus, I need my dignity..."

"Who are you people?" Harry - the resident Harry - yelled. The Alt Lupin looked at him, then at Alt Harry.

"Your counterpart?" he said. Alt Harry nodded once. Alt Hermione stepped away from Lupin, who scared her a great deal (something to do with a night and some overzealous love bites...) only for the resident Hermione to hold her steady.

"You have no right to be here," she said.

"Hark at the fuck buddy for hire," one of the twins (red coat) said, smiling. "Wonder if she's any good?"

"Fuck of mohican boy," the black coated one said. "Business first - then it's my go."

"Fuck you," red coat snarled, but the alternate Tonks got between them.

"Kill each other another time," she said. "Preferably when we can get good seats for it."

She looked Hermione dead in the eye.

"I'm Nympho," she said. "Remus," she said, pointing at the alt Lupin, "Fred," red coat, "and George," Black coat. "You are prisoners of our war effort."

Harry raised his wand, as did Ron. Hermione didn't bother, seeing full well that they were most likely outmatched.

"Wise, little girl," Nympho smiled. "Twins, bind them."

"Twins?" Alt Fred sneered. "What are we? One gestalt being?" 'Ello queer," he added to Ronald, who smirked sarcastically.

"Sorry about this," he said to the resident Golden Trio. "But they are paying us."


	8. Tom

**Obviously, threatening my muse worked.**

--

It was dark, and it stank.

Albus Dumbledore rotated on the spot, weary from all the death he had just seen, and Severus Snape stood by him, wand out, ready to fight anything and everything that came at them. He muttered "_lumos_" and started looking around, then extinguished the wand in an instant.

He didn't exactly know what he was expecting when he came to the universe that had bred the alternate young Gryffindors, but it wasn't this.

The portraits were all silent, and many were screaming in agony. Several were images of explicit sexuality of the kind the Hogwarts librarian back where he came from would have had a stroke at the sight of. Albus Dumbledore looked un-rattled, next to him, his won wand now lit and watching the images carefully.

"Fascinating," he said. Snape raised an eyebrow at him, and Albus smiled. "not for their content, but for the fact that they give an insight into this universes mentality – although, saying that, that one there looks absolutely mesmerizing," he added with a wolfish grin, pointing at a picture of – no, Snape didn't want to know.

"Haven't we got a task to do?" he said.

"Oh, yes," Albus smiled. "Confront my alternate self. Should be easy enough," he said, breezily, when suddenly, another wand light came up. Severus Snape raised his wand – and there was his won face, staring back at him.

"Who are you, and what are you doing here?" the face said, angrily.

--

Hermione, Harry and Ron sat, tied up, in a broom cupboard.

"This is like something from Doctor Who," Hermione said, angry. "I mean Christ, evil villains, broom cupboard…"

"I never watched it," Harry admitted. "Dudley hated it."

"What are you two on about?" Ron asked.

"Never mind," Hermione said, exasperated. "Ow – damn bitch of an alternate self…"

"What happened to yours?" Ron asked Harry. "Looked like someone let Norbert loose on his…"

Harry's face dissuaded him from continuing.

"Poor bugger," Hermione put in.

"Wonder what the nutters are doing?" Ron wondered.

--

The 'nutters' marched straight into the Great Hall.

"Whassup Hogwarts!" the twins yelled. "Start screaming!!"

With that, they started throwing spells into the air, creating large shapes of pain and destruction, dragons that swooped over the room.

The Alt Golden Trio were calm, collected, Hermione laughing, Harry smirking, making his won shapes to join those of the twins, and Ronald - now dressed in a new blue drape coat, wing collar shirt, waistcoat, bow tie and black pressed trousers - arm in arm with Remus Lupin, both of them guarding the door, pointing their wands at any student who tried to leave.

'Nympho' Tonks was at the head of the little group, and she walked forward to the table, noted the lack of Dumbledore, and leant forward to talk to McGonagall instead.

"Where's the old man?" she asked, her tone casual, but her face stone cold and hard.

McGonagall said nothing, but raised her chin, defiantly.

"Oh, you don't wanna push me, granny," Nympho smiled. "I'll kill one student every five minutes in the most excruciatingly painful way possible, unless you tell me."

At this, Alt Hary looked at Ronald, who shrugged.

"I think he's gone off to deal with our Dumbledore," he called. Nympho turned to look at him, an incredulous look on her face. Then she wandered over to him, and said, as casually as she could considering she was furious, "whose bright idea was that?"

Ronald grinned at her.

"Mine, actually," he said. Nympho looked murderous, but Alt Lupin held up a hand.

"Why did you give him that idea, Ronald?" he asked, politely.

"Because our Dumbledore is a prick and theirs is a wimp," Ronald smiled. "One of them is definitely gonna croak it, and quite frankly, I'm not fussed which one."

--

"Severus Snape, isn't it?" Dumbledore asked the man in front of him politely. This new Snape wore the same basic outfit that his Severus always wore, except it was in silver-grey.

"My God," the new Snape said, eyes wide. "What are you two doing here?!"

"We're here to see your Dumbledore," albus smiled. "If you don't mind, that is."

The Alt Snape raised an eyebrow.

"Well, _I _don't mind, but he'll not be too happy," he sighed. "You realise, you lot are supposed to be dead?"

"I've never been very good at being what I'm supposed to be," Albus smiled. Snape – _his_ Snape – sighed, and followed his counterpart, who led them up the corridor.

--

Albus Charon Lucifer Beelzebub Robert Alan Dumbledore, wearing a long black robe holding his transparent-headed staff in a claw-like left hand, and feeling decidedly murderous, glowered as his Alternate self entered.

"Hello," the new Dumbledore (wearing a set of blue robes that looked appalling). "I assume you're the one who sent the two Weasleys, Mr Potter and Miss Granger to my world?"

"So what if I did?" Dumbledore snapped.

"So… that isn't very polite," Albus said. "And I'd really rather you hadn't."

"Eff off," Dumbledore snarled. "Your world is fair game to mine; you're all weak."

The other Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.

"No," he said, after a moment. "I'm not weak. I'm moral."

"Oh, well good for effing you," Dumbledore snarled. He raised his staff, but the other Dumbledore waved his wand and Dumbledore blocked the spell.

"You are good," he grinned. "But I'm better."

He raised the staff.

There was a flash of light.

He knew no more.

--

Albus looked down at his unconscious counterpart. His eyes felt like they were going to rip, they were that wide; because standing where Dumbledore had been was… a handsome man, couldn't have been more than fifty, light blue eyes, wide, open and honest. White robes that shone from within.

"Hello," he smiled. "I'm Tom."

--

Nympho was getting edgy, Ronald could tell. She kept twirling her wand, and looking around.

Her decision, as expedition commander, had been to wait for Dumbledore – either of them – to come, and kill him as son as he did. Ronald was doubtful it would work; one, their arrival would be too sudden for anyone to react in time, and two, it wasn't guaranteed that Dumbledore would return here. He exchanged a glance with Remus, his partner (although hardly a monogamous man, Ronald considered Remus the closest thing to a soulmate he had – sophisticated, intelligent, and very, very sexy) which confirmed that his best friend anywhere was feeling the same way.

Ronald shot a glance at Hermione, who was busy talking to some of the resident Gryffindor boys. Slut. Then his gaze wandered to Harry; Harry Potter, the boy-who-hated. He wondered vaguely if he had gotten over that silly infatuation with Ginevra.

Actually, he hoped he hadn't. Somehow, the idea of those two together wasn't quite as repellent as Ronald had thought. Actually, it made a kind of sense.

He shook his head. What the hell was wrong with him?

--

Luna Lovegood studied the Alternate Harry Potter with interest.

"Fascinating," she said.

"What the fuck are you staring at," he said, conversationally.

"You," she replied. "You mind?"

"Yes, I fucking mind," he replied, with a grin. "But… you're Lovegood? Luna Lovegood?"

"Yeah," she smiled. "Why are you here?"

"'Cos I felt like it," he said. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I felt like it," she smiled. Alt Harry smiled. Luna Lovegood in his universe had been raped and murdered in her third year by a gang of Hufflepuffs. Ginevra hadn't taken too kindly to that; in actual fact, she had disembowelled the entire gang I revenge. Funny old world.

He vaguely wondered what had happened to Ginevra. Now he thought about it; actually, now he thought about it, he was worried for her. He hoped she was alright.

If she wasn't, there would be hell to pay. He turned back to continue his conversation with Lovegood, but she was gone.

"Bollocks," he swore. "Ronald! Problem!"

--

Hermione looked up, as the door knocked. The boys followed suit, and soon, Hermione realised that someone was at the door; rescue had come!

"Help!" she called. "In here!"

The door opened, and to the amazement of the three of them, Ginny and Luna stood by, Luna looking faintly interested, Ginny amused.

"Hello, you lot," she said. "Having a nice rest?"

"Never mind that," Ron snapped. "Get us out, we have to stop the nutters…"

"Already ahead of you," Ginny said. Luna moved to untie the Trio. "We have a plan…"

Thomas Marvolo Riddle was the leader of the Life Eaters, Dumbledore had heard. It made sense that he was entirely the opposite of Lord Voldemort, who was less human.

He was like someone had removed all of the imperfections that Tom Riddle had had when he was younger. Even the hair, although there were streaks of silver, was perfectly styled and glossed.

"Hello Tom," Dumbledore said. "I'm Albus."

"I know," Tom said. His voice was high, innocent, and calm. "What I don't quite understand is why you're there, and here as well," he pointed at the unconscious Dumbledore.

"I'm from an alternate universe," Albus smiled.

"Really?" Tom said, and he sounded amazed. "Wow! That's fascinating. Tell me, what's it like?"

"Alright," Albus said, his smile faltering. "But I'm rather afraid that… your counterpart is rather… unpleasant."

"Oh dear," Tom said, and he looked rather embarrassed and ashamed of himself. "I'm so sorry about that. If there's anything I can do?"

Albus was about to shake his head, when a thought occurred to him.

_"They shoot a spell at you that fills you full of positive emotions; so much in fact that some say the soul is actually empowered by the act of casting it. The victim simply cannot hate, ever again. It lobotomises you, in a sense, removes all negative emotions. Makes you a smiling moron…"_

"Actually," Albus said, the plan forming fully in his mind, "there is something you can do to help me..."

--


	9. Pretty, Witty and Bright

The Dark Lord Voldemort sat, contemplating everything he had to do to rule.

Dumbledore was doomed; this much was obvious. Even if the pathetic Malfoy boy failed, Snape wouldn't.

After Dumbledore died, the plan was simple – Imperise the Ministry of Magic, all the important pieces on the board; once the important units were under his command, then, and only then, could he launch his masterstroke; kill the Minister, set up a puppet, and slaughter the Mudbloods.

Once they wee gone, the wizarding world would see how much – _better­_ – things were under his rule. Muggle hunting could be a sport. Obviously, he, Voldemort, would be the champion; besides, it would be something to do. Only an idiot would deny that ruling the world would be dull as sin.

None of his faithful Death Eaters were here. He was alone, with only his beloved Nagini to speak to; as if she was much of a conversationalist.

Sometimes, he wondered what would have happened if, instead of killing Mudbloods in Slytherin, he'd become a Gryffindor. Surely, in that house, he would have become something more like Dumbledore. A _philanthropist_. Revered.

Bah. His blood screamed for the purity of the wizarding world. Mudbloods could not be tolerated. Whether in Gryffindor or Slytherin, he would always have known that. It was his nature.

He wondered vaguely if it would have been different had he had a family. A father and mother.

Bah. He had seen his uncle; hideous. He had known his mother to be the same. Cancerous. Inbred. Morons. His father, on the other hand, was a handsome man, but arrogant and stupid and conceited and bigoted... and just like every other Muggle. And just like every other Muggle would do, he had died. Died at Voldemort's hands.

He blinked.

When did he become the reminiscing sort?

"Bah," he said aloud.

"Bah humbug," a voice echoed. "Etcetera, etcetera."

Voldemort turned his head, and found himself looking in a broken mirror, a mirror that showed him what he might have been.

It was Tom Riddle, wearing white robes, a pleasant, polite expression on his face, which he quickly rearranged into a deadly serious one.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle…" he intoned, his voice portentous and loud. "I am the ghost of Christmas Past…"

Then he burst out laughing. Voldemort had never laughed.

"You are classic!" this new man said. "Absolutely classic! But blimey, what did you do to yourself…?"

Voldemort took out his wand and pointed it at this insane Riddle-alike.

"Avada Kedavra," he said. The new Riddle dodged this, and took out is own wand.

"Oh, come on," he said. "I haven't done anything to you!"

"You're irritating me," Voldemort replied.

"Oh come off it," Riddle smiled. "you can't kill _everyone_ who annoys you…"

His smile faltered at the look on Voldemorts face.

"Just watch me," Voldemort replied. Riddle stared at him for a moment, his face inexplicably turning almost sad, and then he raised his own wand.

"I was hoping you wouldn't force me to do this," he said. "But…"

Voldemort shot another Avada Kedavra at him, and the new Riddle again ducked it, and then raised his wand.

All of a sudden, an alien feeling spread through Lord Voldemort. He stopped thinking for a moment as the feeling spread, and then he felt really, really… happy. Really, _really…_ happy.

"#The hills…" he began, "are alive… with the sound of music…!"

--

Harry, Hermione and Ron tiptoed along the corridor, careful not to make any noise. Harry blinked, and rubbed his scar, which had started prickling... then it started… _tickling…_ and then…

Just as the got to the entrance hall, Harry ran into the middle of the space, and then held his arms out.

"#The hills are alive, with the sound of music! With songs they have sung, for a thousand years…!"

Hermione laughed. Ron and Ginny looked confused. Luna looked, as she always did, mildly interested. Then, to their horror, the door to the great hall opened and Nympho Tonks, Fred, George and the Alternate Trio ran out.

"Blimey," Fred said.

"Seconded," George added, as Harry finished the song and pranced into a bow. Then he fainted. Nympho Tonks looked up at Ginny, Hermione, Ron and Luna. They looked at her. Then, with a shout, spells started flying…

--

"He sings very well," Riddle laughed, as Voldemort pranced away, singing more songs from the Sound of Music.

Alt Snape didn't smile; he was too busy throwing up (he didn't travel well). The resident Snape, however, was struggling not to burst out laughing, and there was a wide smile on his face. Albus Dumbledore, however, was crying. All the things that would never happen, now. The war he had seen, he had prevented.

"I wonder how Bellatrix is going to react," he said.

"He'll use the spell on the worst of his Death Eaters," Riddle said, the smile leaving his face. "I didn't like using it; free will is such a wonderful thing…"

"With him, less so," Severus said. Alt Snape nodded, having finally stopped throwing up. Riddle smiled.

"You know," he said after a moment, "I think I might stay here. I like this universe. People aren't evil. Besides, the most important thing about fighting impossible odds is knowing when to quit. I can't change my home," he finished, "but I can help here."

"A commendable goal," Dumbledore smiled.

"Oh, by the way," Tom said, looking at Dumbledore's hand. He held up his wand, and then, without muss or fuss, the hand was perfect again. Dumbledore blinked, and stared at it.

"How did you do that?" Severus said, confused. "There's no…"

"Let's just say," Tom Riddle smiled, "that being me… has certain privileges. Farewell, Albus Dumbldore. We'll meet again."

Dumbledore inclined his head, and then Tom Riddle left. The Alternate Snape considered for a moment, and then ran after him, only turning briefly to say a hurried "bye then" to Dumbledore and Severus Snape.

"I wonder what they'll do with their lives," Severus mused.

"Something good," Dumbledore smiled. He was still studying his hand. "Ah, and I had just arranged the most wonderful shroud to be made for me. Ah well."

"Does this mean I don't have to kill you now?" Snape asked.

"Yes, Severus," Albus smiled. "It means that – and much more. Now, come. We still have to send those young Alternate Universe residents home."

"What about their Dumbledore?" Snape asked.

"Well, what about him?" Albus said. "Riddle dealt with him; I imagine he's busy singing about how…"

--

**The Alternate Albus Dumbledore's office.**

"…#I feel pretty, oh so pretty, I feel pretty and witty and bright!"

--

Ronald and Ron were again duelling with _Gladius Mico,_ Ron swinging his wand like a blunt instrument, Ronald parrying with all the skill of a champion fencer.

"This gets old," Ron said. Ronald nodded.

The two Harry's were fist fighting. Alt Harry had the upper hand, and was currently trying to throttle the resident Harry…

"Relashio!" Ginny yelled, hitting Alt Harry's hand and making him step back. Luna was happily shooting spells at the Weasley twins, who were shocking shots.

Alt Hermione was hiding, leaving the resident Hermione to deal with Remus Lupin, who was skilled, bored, and perhaps a shade complacent, too used to dealing with the stupid sex addict of his own world…

"Stupefy!" Hermione yelled, and Remus blocked it. A lazy flick of his wand sent a blue bolt of light at her, but she dodged it, and her next spell hit him square between the eyes. He went cross eyed for a moment, then collapsed, unconscious. Nympho Tonks snarled and shot a killing curse at Hermione, but then, to everyone's surprise, Alt Hermione shot a spell out. A spell, what's more, that actually connected with the target – Nympho Tonks – and sent her sprawling across the floor, unconscious.

"I always hated that bitch," Alt Hermione snarled. Then she looked over at Hermione, who was looking mildly surprised. "What?"

Hermione stunned her.

"_That_," she said, "was for hitting me with aphrodisiac potion!"

Luna had by now stunned both of the twins, and wandered over to the two Ron's.

"None of your friends are much good at this, are they?" she observed. Ronald broke off from Ron, and looked at the stunned figures of Fred, George, Tonks and Lupin.

"Damn," he said. "Amateurs."

"You might want t surrender now," Ron smiled from behind him. Ronald gave him a withering look, then sighed.

"Do I have a choice?" he said. He walked down the steps, past Harry and Alt Harry, who were still beating the crap out of each other, and he tapped his Harry on the shoulder.

"We just lost," he said. Alt Harry let go of Harry at once, and the resident Boy-Who-Lived fell to the floor. The twins were getting up, groggily, and Remus and Nympho were stirring.

"What now?" he said.

"I dunno," Ronald said, mildly annoyed. "Wait for their Dumbledore to get here, and ask him to send us home, I suppose."

As if on cue, the front door opened, and Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape walked in, smiling. Snape, in fact, was shaking from silent mirth, something none of them had ever seen.

"Oh, dear," Albus said, as they came in. "A bit of a mess, this, isn't it?"

"You can say that again," Ronald smiled, and then he frowned, as he noticed something. "Where's Ginevra?"

Alt Harry came up behind him, and frowned as well. Suddenly, Albus Dumbledore looked old as time, and quite shocked, and quite afraid, and sad, and regretful. Snape stopped smiling, and looked, if possible, a little unhappy himself.

"Ah," he said. "Well…"

"We ended up in another parallel universe," Severus Snape cut in, bluntly. "She was killed."

Ronald's eyes widened. Behind him, his twin brothers both stopped moving, hoping they'd heard wrong. Ginevra, dead?

But the Alternate Harry Potter, the Hary Potter who was supposedly immune to love, whose parents were lobotomised grinning idiots, who had no friends, who had never failed, who had only wanted one thing for years... he blinked only once, a calm, before the storm broke, and he screamed in rage and fury…

"I'm gonna kill you, you bastard!"


	10. I Don't Think This Is Home

Snape stunned him in an instant, but he didn't fall instantly. Alt Harry collapsed first to his knees, glaring at Albus, then to the floor.

"My sister is dead," Ronald repeated, faintly. "My… my…"

He swallowed. Then, slowly, he walked over to the unconscious Harry, and turned him over. The scar that had graced his forehead for nearly fifteen years – a heart with an arrow through it – was gone.

"Riddle's love spell," he said aloud. "It seems to have worked, at last."

Ronald smiled, something he found unbelievable of himself, given the circumstances.

"It seems the boy-who-hates can love after all," he said, looking up at Dumbledore and Snape, who were both confused. "That spell that Riddle sent at him when he was young; it did the opposite of what it was meant to, made it so that he could never love; at least, that's what we thought. I guess he was just waiting for the right person…"

The resident Harry felt a deep sense of shock. He had been under the impression that his alternate self couldn't love, nor did he want to; judging from the stunned faces on both the resident and alternate wizards, he hadn't been the only one.

"Blimey," Ron said from behind him. "I hesitate to say it, but… poor bugger."

"Yeah," Harry nodded.

Ronald stood up, and faced Albus, eyes wet, but jaw set and firm.

"If you could send us all home, now, please, sir?" he asked, his voice strong, but a little cracked.

Albus nodded kindly, and raised his wand, pointing it first at the older wizards, who looked set to protest, but vanished before they could.

Then the alternate trio walked together, Ronald and Hermione lifting Harry. Albus raised his wand again, and with one wave, the trio vanished.

"Thank bloody God!" Ginny yelled.

Snape gave Dumbledore a quizzical look.

--

Ron, Hermione, Harry and Ginny were in the Gryffindor common room.

"You know, all this has got me thinking," Harry said. "Don't put off tomorrow what you can do today."

Ginny gave him a furtive look, then grinned. Ron stood up and walked over to the window. Hermione followed him, and put her arm around his shoulder.

"You alright?" she asked.

"Well," he said. "I'm… well… fine."

"You sure?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said. "Fancy going for a walk?"

"Alright," she smiled.

--

In Defence Against The Dark Arts the next day, Snape decided to be a little nastier than usual.

"Class," he said to his Sixth Years, "what advice would you give when dealing with parallel universes?"

Hermione Granger raised her hand, and when no one else did, Snape asked her to answer.

"At all costs, avoid them," she said, deadly serious. Snape considered this, and then, grudgingly, he nodded.

"Very well, Miss Granger," he said. "One point to Gryffindor."

Five minutes later, the entire class started breathing again.

--

Albus looked up as Snape entered his office.

"Apparently, the Dark Lord is off in America, healing the sick," he said without preamble.

"Hm," Dumbledore smiled. "How nice for him. You gave a point to Gryffindor," he added.

"And?" Snape said, not particularly wishing to discuss this.

"Are you ill?" Dumbledore asked, faux worried. Snape scowled. Dumbledore laughed, and stood up.

"What did you want to talk about?" he said.

"Well," Albus said, "I wondered if you had any questions regarding the parallel universe."

"I do, actually," said Snape. "Why did you let them go? They'll come back."

"The trio won't," Dumbledore smiled. "I _might_ have got their destination wrong…"

--

Ronald raised an eyebrow as a masked and hooded man ran at him. He stunned him in an instant.

Harry looked around, and Hermione cowered; the corridor they were in was empty apart from the stunned man.

"Well," Ronald smiled. "I don't think this is home."


End file.
